Fright Night
by ForeverFreelancer
Summary: Sly and Carmelita take their little ones out for a night of trick-or-treat excitement. Along the way, they come across a rather creepy haunted house in the neighborhood, and one of the Cooper kits thinks he's brave enough to handle what awaits inside. One-shot request, mentions of past character death and splashes of angst, but it's all mostly tooth-rotting fluff.


_I got a request from someone who wants to remain anonymous. The story concept and the costumes were all their idea, I just pieced it all together for them. It was very fun to write though, and I was honored to receive a request for a story involving my Cooper kiddos._

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Fright Night

* * *

Halloween. A night of ghouls and goblins and dressing up like something you're not. For Sly Cooper, Halloween was once a night for crashing costume parties of the corrupt rich and elite and making off with their valuable stolen treasures.

Now, the night had been given a very different sort of spin. One that was much more family-oriented.

And he loved it.

On this particular Halloween night, he had just put the finishing touches on his costume and was ready to show it off to his family.

"So, how do I look?"

Upon the posed question, Carmelita appraised her husband's appearance. His grey fur had been dyed green, a crude set of stitches painted to his head fur. Around his neck was an accessory positioned just right so that the bolts on either side looked like they were embedded in his fur. He wore a tattered coat and bulky black boots.

"Ridiculous," she answered. In her arms, Robbie nestled. He, through no doing of his own, was dressed as a mummy, his outfit crocheted to look like loose bandages. And he wore a matching beanie atop his head.

The vixen herself was wearing a floor-length black and red gown, adorned with lace and sheer sleeves that gathered at the wrists. Her real hair was pulled back, concealed beneath a black bouffant wig. A silk cape fell across her back, the fabric attached by means of a frilly red ribbon around her neck. And of course, she was wearing a set of fangs.

At Sly's less-than-impressed look, she smiled. "It's alright," she amended. "I look just as silly."

"You do not. You look gorgeous. You pull off those colors so well, Carm."

"Well thank you, but I still feel silly," the vixen admitted. "The lengths we go to just to put a smile on our little one's faces, eh?"

"I found it I found it I found it!" a young voice cheered.

Down the stairs scurried their daughter. She was dressed up in a witch costume consisting of a black and purple dress, a cape, to coordinate with her mom, and a pointy black hat and black ballet flats. As she stood on the bottom step of the staircase, she victoriously waved a pumpkin-shaped bucket around. "I found my candy punkin!"

Sly smiled brightly at her. "I found my little pumpkin too!" Sprinting over, he picked her up and lifted her high in the air.

She giggled in delight, her two-toned curls falling off her shoulders while held up in the air. "No! No punkin Daddy! I'm a witch!"

"Yes, and you're the cutest little witch there ever was. But you're also my little pumpkin." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lowering her into his arms.

"Now, remember what I told you?" Carmelita asked with a knowing smile.

Callista thought a moment, and then nodded. In one hand, her 'candy punkin' and in her other, she held a small broom, speaking slowly as she tried to remember. "Mommy said no cassing spells...and not to use my bwoom to fly."

Sly grinned. "And she is absolutely right. Flying is very dangerous for a little witch like you." He helped her up onto his back and leaned forward. "Piggy-back rides are however, perfectly okay." Like lightning, he took off, racing around the living room, the young foxcoon squealing loudly from atop her father's back. He spun around in circles with her. Her angelic peals of laughter rang out as she placed a set of tiny auburn hands on both his cheeks. "Silly Daddy," she declared.

"We're missing one." Sly looked to his wife, the vixen displaying that same knowing smile, using her eyes to silently gesture to where their oldest kit was peeking around the corner.

"I haven't seen him," she said, making a show of shrugging and shaking her head to feign innocence. "I saw him earlier. But now I have no idea where he is."

He quickly caught on. After setting Callista down, he began scratching at his chin with a thoughtful hum. "Let me go see if I can find him. I hope he didn't wander off too far."

Sly crept down the hall, taking his time to look under and behind furniture, even if it wasn't large enough to hide behind. "Rascal? Buddy? You here?"

In answer, a small growl sounded from the other side of the doorway leading to the kitchen.

Sly continued forward, winking over his shoulder. "Did you guys hear that? I think there's a monster hiding out in our house."

Little eyes wide, Callista inched closer to Carmelita, and though her hands were full, she still managed to wrap her arms tightly around one of the vixen's legs. She was not about to leave her mother's side if there was a monster lurking the halls of her nice, safe home. No way.

Further down the hall Sly stepped, throwing his hands up dramatically as their oldest jumped out into the open. He was dressed up in a werewolf costume and was snarling and pawing up at Sly. His hands were covered in thick hairy gloves, long rubbery claws fanning out from beneath the scraggly layers of fake fur. He had footwear and the headpiece to match the gloves, and his normally adorable little masked face was painted up to look more canine-like.

"Werewolf!" Sly shouted. "Everyone stay back!"

Rascal growled again, and leapt for his father. Sly caught him and pretended to stumble backwards. "Noooo! He got me, raccoon doowwwn!"

Feeling victorious when Sly had fallen to the floor, Rascal perched on all fours on his father's chest and threw his head back. "AWWWOOOO!" he howled.

Peeking around Carmelita's side, Callista looked none too impressed. "No!" she yelled, running to her father's aid. "No brudder, don't hurt Daddy!"

Chuckling, Sly sat up and set Rascal in his lap. "It's okay, baby, I'm fine. We were just playing. No one's hurt."

"Yea Calli," said Rascal. "It's just pretend fighting. It's not real."

Sly got to his feet, picking both Rascal and Callista up and carrying them back to the living room. When the whole Cooper family had gathered by the front door, Sly knelt down in front of the two older kits, both excitedly gripping their candy buckets. Carmelita stood nearby, getting Robbie adjusted in his stroller, as he would probably be napping while his brother and sister set out into the neighborhood on an exciting hunt for sweet treats.

"Now, before we go, we have a few rules we need to go over," their father began.

The children stood quietly, listening.

"First rule: stay with me and Mommy at all times. We don't want you getting lost, especially not at night. Next rule: no stealing candy from anyone. Coopers only steal from who?"

"Other thieves!" Rascal answered.

"Right! So, the only candy we take tonight is the candy we're given, alright?"

"Yes, Daddy," the kits said in unison. Though Callista was only marginally listening now, as she began to swing her bucket back and forth.

"Last rule, and this is the _most_ important one." He paused, making sure they were both listening. "When we get back home, you have to give me half of all your candy."

The kits both immediately whined in protest, causing their father to start laughing. "I'm kidding!" he said, hugging them. "The most important rule is to have fun."

Carmelita smiled and shook her head, tickling Robbie's nose as he cooed softly from his stroller. "Let me take some pictures of you, and then we can get going."

After a small photoshoot in the foyer, the Cooper family was off for their grand trick-or-treating adventure.

Skeletons, gravestones, and jack-o'-lanterns filled nearly every yard they passed on the sidewalk. Other families walked along the pavement, children laughing and skipping up driveways and walkways, excitedly ringing the doorbell, while others were running from the same house, one or two pieces of candy richer than before.

And if the neighbor was generous, a whole handful!

When they got to the first house, Sly and Carmelita led the way, as this was Callista's first trick-or-treat outing and she didn't quite understand it all yet.

After the second and third house, she was starting to catch on, and by the time they got to house number five, Rascal insisted he could take her with him by himself. So their parents watched on from the end of the driveway, as the two rang the doorbell and waited until a beaver couple answered the door, complementing the youngsters on how cute they looked in their costumes.

Robbie was wide awake for a change, blue eyes full of wonder as he looked at the night sky. He babbled happily, pointing up at the moon from the safety of his mother's arms.

Carmelita looked up as well, smiling. "See the moon, mi hijito? Isn't it pretty?"

Sly too glanced up at the radiant moon high above their heads. Then he reached down and gently scratched one of the tiny kit's ears. "I've always loved this time of night. It used to be just about the only time I'd ever get to run into your beautiful mother on the job."

The vixen huffed a gentle laugh. "Now you get to see me all the time. Hopefully you aren't bored out of your mind with the view."

Sly shook his head, a 'you can't be serious' smile crossing his muzzle. "How could I be bored with my favorite view of all?"

"Mom! Dad! Look!" Rascal said, running up to the two, holding his sister's hand. "I got three pieces of chocolate! And a skull ring!"

"Hey, that's awesome!" Sly commented.

"They had spider rings too, but I wanted this one more."

"Good call," said his father. "I'm not a big fan of spiders myself."

"I'll second that," murmured his mother. Giving Robbie a warm nuzzling, she beamed down at her daughter. "What'd you get, sweetie?"

Callista held up the packets of strawberry-flavored fruit snacks for them all to see. "Gummies!" she announced. Looking down, she then held her arm out to show off the beaded band that was now on her wrist. "And a bwacelet!"

"Oooh that's beautiful!"

Rascal began tugging at Sly's arm. "The chipmunk boy that got there before us, he told me there's a haunted house on the next street. Can we go? Please Dad?"

Sly shrugged. "I don't see why not. But it might be really scary, so I'll go with you."

"You don't have to. I'm not scared!"

Sly and Carmelita shared a furtive look. Bold words from a five-year-old.

"Well, what if I want to check it out too?" Sly asked.

That seemed to satisfy the young boy. "Okay! Then we can both go!"

"Alright then," Sly answered with a nod. "Let's see how much candy you can get before we get there!"

Turns out their neighborhood had some great scores waiting behind nearly every door. These families really went all out to make the Halloween experience unforgettable for both kids and adults alike. In no time at all, both older kits' buckets were nearly filled to the brim with all kinds of candies. Sly smiled to himself as he thought about how they'd be rationing it out for weeks to avoid tummyaches.

No one was left to wonder which house was the supposed haunted house Rascal had been talking about. At the very end of the next street, a set of towering gates were opened wide, antique lampposts on either side. Off to one side, a large cauldron sat, clouds of dry ice fog spilling out of it and drifting across the ground. Pumpkins lined the brick wall that bordered the enormous front yard, faces carved into each one.

A female lizard, looking to be about mid-40s, was stirring the cauldron with a prop ladle. The green liquid inside bubbled as she stirred. Warts could been seen on her face, short orange hair visible beneath her very authentic-looking hat. Her costume looked tailor-made, from the striped stockings to the Renaissance-style dress and pointy-toed boots.

"Welcome!" she spoke, lifting a bony hand and waving at the approaching family. Deep wrinkles formed around her lips as she grinned down at Callista. "Oooh a fellow witch! Hello there! Aren't you a pretty thing!"

Callista froze in place, quickly hiding behind Carmelita's tail, causing the vixen to look over at her husband with a light smirk.

The lizard's attention shifted to the fox and raccoon. "Have you come to experience the haunting on Maywood Manor?" she guessed.

Sly nodded. "Yes, my son and I." He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter still cowering behind the vixen. "Not so sure about the rest of my crew."

"Oh that's fine!" she assured. "We have something for everyone here! You just follow the pathway and the others will show you where to go from there. Have fun!"

The couple thanked the older woman, and led their children through the gates and up the path. When they'd gotten closer, they could see just how big this house was and how creepy it looked up close. It was a massive Victorian-style mansion. Lofty, octagonal towers and steep rooflines. Cobwebs had been strung across the gables and in the eaves. A few of the window shutters were busted or crooked. A set of stairs led up to the column-lined porch, where strobe lights mimicked the look of lightning. The crash of thunder followed right after each flash. And even the occasional screech of a bat could be heard in the mix.

In front of the stairs, a couple was chatting with several other adults. The female in the center, a tall rabbit, was dressed as an undead bride, a special jumpsuit underneath her dress making it look as though she was made of nothing but bones. Her groom stood nearby, tipping his top hat to the newcomers.

"Good evening friends," he called, gently nudging the rabbit. "Darling, we have some new visitors."

The female rabbit spun around, her special effects makeup a rather impressive sight, even Sly had to admit. "Well hello there, come to take part in our haunted house?"

"Two of us have," Sly answered, patting Rascal's head. "Me and the little werewolf here."

"We'll wait for you outside," said Carmelita, one hand securely to her frightened daughter's back. Robbie, meanwhile, oblivious to all, cooed from inside his stroller. The baby foxcoon giggled to himself as he shook his rattle.

"We've got some games you guys can play while you wait for Dad and big brother." The rabbit gestured to an area to the side, filled with smaller children and parents. "Ring toss, find the candy in the haystack, pumpkin bowling. Perfect for the fans of the not-so-spooky." She winked.

"That's where we'll be," said Carmelita.

"Come on, Dad, let's go!" Rascal insisted, excitedly pulling his father by the arm.

"We'll come find you," Sly called, heading up to the front door of the spooky haunted mansion.

"Alright. See you in a bit," answered the vixen, picking her daughter up and setting her on her hip.

Upon entering the haunted house, they were welcomed by an elderly mole in a suit that looked like it came straight out of a 19th century closet. "You're just in time," he said. "We were about to get started, but were waiting on a few more. This way, if you please."

Rascal was now hopping excitedly at Sly's side. The two were herded into a small room with a large group of others, some around his son's age, most older.

The mole lit a candle, causing the group to quiet down. Then he began to tell the story of the spirits that supposedly inhabited this house. The tale as old of time, of the couple in love, placed under a curse of a warlock who wanted the beautiful girl for his own. Now the two lovers and their descendants, as well as their entire band of maids and butlers, lurked the halls, looking for a living soul to take for sacrifice so they could lift the dreaded curse.

To Sly, the story didn't sound all that interesting, but Rascal was hanging on the old mole's every word, completely sold on the creepy tale.

With a flourishing arm, the mole sent the group on their way, telling them, in a dramatically sinister voice, not to get lost along the way.

At first, it was nothing more than statues and paintings on the wall, but the longer they walked, the more it seemed that the faces in the paintings were watching them.

With every new hallway visited, a new effect was added: distant screams, loud banging, deranged cackling. In the shadows and corners, the group of thrill-seekers could feel eyes on them, and not the kind stuck in paintings. They could hear the footsteps of those lying in wait, ready to ambush when the opportunity arose. And then, a ghostly figure would leap out and shriek, bringing forth a chorus of screams from the group. But with his father by his side, the little kit found he wasn't all that scared.

And this might have given him a bit of false confidence.

They came to a place where the mansion's maze had been split into two separate pathways.

Rascal pointed to one of them. "I'm going down this one!" he told Sly, already taking off in a flash of brown and black.

"Wait! Rascal wait up! You gotta stay with me!"

"I'll be okay!" he shouted, rounding a corner and disappearing from view.

Sly ran ahead, but he got slowed down by a few of the jumpscare props he'd triggered. And a performer jumping out from their hiding spot and chasing him a short distance away. He'd seen so much scarier, and had dealt with actual ghosts, not someone in a costume. Though they played the part and did a convincing job, it just couldn't compare to the kind of deep-rooted fear a real monster can plant within you.

But to his young son, this surely all looked very real.

Sly followed the path his son had gone down, thinking he'd catch up to him around the next corner or through the next shadow-blanketed doorway. There was no sign of him.

He started to grow worried, and that worry hit full blast when he heard his son's frightened screams through the walls beyond. Going into full protective dad mode, he dashed forward, following the sound of the kit's screams. But it was so dark, and the strobe lights made it difficult to be in any kind of hurry. And though he tried calling out for him, his voice was drown out by the banging and ear-splitting screams of the spirits on parade terrorizing the victims before them.

Finally, one of the ghouls caught Sly by the arm. But instead of a scream or baleful moan, he offered something that was much more helpful. "Hey, I think that's your boy in the guest room there. Little fella got way too spooked by the headless maids down there. I told him he could hang out in there 'til one of us found you."

"Thank you. I'm sorry, he ran ahead before I could stop him."

"Oh it's alright. Gotten way worse reactions than that before, trust me on that. But uh, yea, I'd go make sure he's alright."

"Will do. Thanks again."

Sly entered the guest room, looking around for his son. He was clued in to the location of his hiding spot when he heard a familiar whimpering from under a small table. The ringed tail sticking out from underneath its shabby tablecloth was another dead giveaway.

He lifted the edge of the tablecloth. Sure enough, there sat Rascal. Little knees hugged to his chest, he sniffled, ears flattened to his head and large tears of fright rolling down his cheeks.

"Buddy," Sly murmured, overtaken with remorse.

Rascal looked up to see his dad, his hero, his light at the end of the scariest of tunnels, arms outstretched to him. Scrambling forward, the little kit threw his much smaller arms around Sly, crying harder as he hid his face in the raccoon's chest.

"Th-the ghost ladies…th-they didn't have heads…an-an-and they were chasing me! And they had these big sharp claws! Real ones! With blood on them! They almost got me, I-I-I didn't want them to get m-me! I tried to hide, but i-it's so dark out th-there!"

Sly hugged him tightly. "Shhh, it's okay buddy, it's okay, it wasn't real. It wasn't real. Like when we were wrestling earlier, remember? Remember what you said to Sissy? It's all just pretend."

With a tiny huff, Rascal scrubbed at his teary eyes, smearing the paint on his facial fur. "It was still scary." He sniffled, clutching at Sly's tattered coat. "I wasn't scared before, but when you weren't there…" Rascal trailed off, hiding his face again as he began to cry again.

Sighing softly, Sly picked up his son and removed the young boy's headpiece, for easier hugging accessibility. Then he picked him up and rose to his feet. "Yea…I always felt a little braver around my dad too…" His mind traveled back to all the times when he felt scared as a kit, and how his father would always show up just in time to save the day. He'd dry his tears and assure him that everything would be okay.

Those later years at the orphanage never offered such comfort. He recalled nights he would leap out of bed, sobbing from horrible nightmares of being chased by the same monsters who attacked his parents. Only to be shushed by one of the old ladies who didn't want him waking up the other kids, and told him to 'just go back to sleep, it was only a dream. Nothing to be afraid of.'

If they only knew.

Sly was brought back to present day when he felt Rascal nuzzling into his neck. More like burrowing, really. ""M s-sorry I didn't listen; I should've stayed with you."

"It's okay bud. I'm sorry it scared you so much." Getting to take on the role that his father before him had, he wiped Rascal's tears away and hugged him close. "You're safe now. I've got you, little guy."

The little foxcoon rested his chin on Sly's shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. "Can we leave now? I wanna go home."

Sly nodded. "Yea I think that might be a good idea. It's getting late anyway, bet everyone else is probably getting tired."

When Sly emerged from the haunted house, Rascal had calmed down enough to walk beside him and simply hold his hand, but the adults gathered near the porch could tell he was not a happy camper while the two made their exit.

"Uh oh…" The rabbit from earlier walked towards them. "Guess it was too much for the little guy huh?" Her smile was kind and her eyes apologetic. "Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's alright," answered Sly. "He did fine up until we got closer to the end. Nice job, by the way, you guys put on a pretty convincing performance."

"Thanks! We try." The rabbit bent down. "Maybe you can come see us again next year, and by then I'm sure you'll be so grown up that those ghosts won't scare you at all!"

Rascal gave a small smile, but lingered right close to Sly and didn't answer.

Sly found the rest of his family at the haystack where little ones gleefully searched for scrumptious goodies. Carmelita looked up, taking notice immediately of her son's red-rimmed eyes and the smeared paint on his face. She didn't say a word, her gaze lifting to lock with her husband's.

"It was...a little much," he explained quietly. "But hey, we gave it a try."

Once she had deposited another found piece of candy into her treat bucket, Callista ran over to show her father. But she got distracted at seeing her brother nearby, looking overcome with what she could only determine was sadness. Her tiny mind hatched an idea and she grabbed at some of the candy she'd won in the games she'd played with her mother. She held them out to Rascal. "Here, brudder."

Sly smiled. "Awww, that's so sweet of you, Sissy."

Rascal had to smile too. "Thanks, but you keep it," he told her.

"'Kay!" she said, running back over to Carmelita. Can't blame a girl for trying.

"Robbie asleep?"

Carmelita smirked at her love, turning the stroller to show their youngest snuggled up in his blanket, out like a light. He was sleeping so hard his tiny mouth was even hanging open. "How did you know?"

"He's got the right idea. I think it's about time the rest of us called it a night too."

[]

They had to negotiate, as parents often do, but they were all able to come to an agreement on how much candy could be eaten after dinner. Then they all watched a movie together until it was time to turn in.

With each Cooper kit tucked into their cozy bed, or crib, Sly and Carmelita retired to their bedroom. Each of them showered and performed what remained of their nightly rituals.

Sly picked at the fur on his chin as he looked in the bathroom mirror with a frown. "This dye's not wanting to come out."

Having rid herself of the black wig and giving her real hair a thorough washing, she put the damp blue locks up in a bun. "If it helps, I think you pull green off well." At her husband's grimace, she laughed gently and kissed his cheek. "It'll fade, might just take a few more showers. I feel your pain though. Just thinking about the disguises and all the wigs I'll have to wear now that we're back in the business together makes me wonder if I should cut my real hair."

"No, don't," Sly said all too quickly, earning him a puzzled look from Carmelita.

"I mean, you can do what you want with your hair, but it's just so beautiful long like it is. It's one of the very first things I noticed about you when we met."

She grinned and crossed her arms. "You are such a shameless flirt."

"It's who I am, Carmelita. Every bit as much a part of me as being a thief. You really should know that by now."

"Oh I do, Ringtail. All too well."

Sly flopped down on their bed with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling in silence.

It wasn't long before the vixen had cuddled up to him in loving concern. "What's got you troubled now? You worried about Rascal?"

At first he didn't respond. Then, after another sigh, he nodded. "He got pretty spooked tonight. And I just…feel bad."

"You couldn't have known, it's not anyone's fault."

"It's not that it happened…it's that I don't want him to feel bad about it happening. I think he's convinced he has to be the tough big brother who doesn't get scared. I don't want him having a complex about it or anything."

"Mmmm…" the vixen hummed, tail idly flicking. "Why not talk to him, if he's still up? Which I'm sure he is. Five is the age of fighting bedtime." She interlaced their fingers. "Tell him about you getting scared when you were young, so he won't feel left out."

Sly looked...unsure. "I just don't want to let him down. He looks up to me, I don't wanna shatter the image he has of me as the fearless hero."

Carmelita snorted lightly at that. "Telling him you get scared is not gonna stop him from seeing you as his hero, Sly. In fact, he may look up to you more. Either way, he might not feel so bad, if he knew that about you."

"…you might be right. I'll see if he's still awake." He playfully nibbled at ear her. And with a wrinkle of her nose, she snickered and swatted him away.

"Be right back," he whispered to her.

He headed down the hallway, stopping at Rascal's bedroom door. Easing it open, he stepped inside.

His son lay in bed, clutching at his pillow. The kit was wide awake. Masked eyes met his father's, little hybrid tail swishing. "Hi Daddy," he said in that tiny voice of his.

"Hey pal," he replied. Smiling warmly, he sat down on the edge of his bed. "I just wanted to come check on you. Having trouble getting to sleep?"

The kit gave a noncommittal shrug, avoiding his father's gaze.

"Rascal…I'm really sorry. I had no idea you were gonna get so scared in there. But you have no reason to feel bad about it."

"Yes I do," he disagreed with a scowl. "I'm a Cooper. Coopers aren't supposed to be afraid of anything. They're supposed to be brave."

"Everyone gets scared sometimes, Ras. Doesn't make you any less brave."

Rascal continued to scowl at his pillow. "You never get scared."

"Oh yes I do. I've been scared tons of times in my life."

The kit's golden brown eyes shot up to stare up at Sly in shock. "R...really?"

"You bet."

"When? What happened?!"

Rascal was far too young to hear the scarring tale about how Sly had lost his own father and mother. Although that was the most prominent memory the raccoon had of being scared. And that was arguably the most terrified he'd ever been in all his life.

And then there was the time he nearly lost everyone he cared about to brainwashing and torture. Or just about any time he went up against one of the many, many enemies who held deep hatred for him and his family line. One of them nearly killing the love of his life and his child before he even took his first breath of air. One of them nearly crushing Sly himself to an agonizing death before he ever had a chance at love and family at all.

None of those would make good bedtime stories, but with a little more pondering, he was able to come up with a good middle ground.

"Have I ever told you the story about the first heist my friends and I went on in the Cooper team van?"

Rascal shook his head, noticeably intrigued now.

"Uncle Murray had surprised us earlier that week with it. It hadn't been fixed up yet, but we were so excited. Our first set of wheels with a real revving engine. And your Uncle Bentley, he didn't have all the crazy technology he has now. We had to work with what he had. And we had no idea at all if we'd be able to pull it off, but we didn't let that stop us. I still remember that first rundown of our plan like it was yesterday…

" _What do you call this thing?"_

" _I've dubbed it the binoc-u-com! Now, it's a prototype, so it may be prone to electromagnetic interference from other wavelength communication mediums."_

" _English, Bentley."_

" _Right, sorry. Basically, it works, but there's still a chance that interference could cut our communication. And this is the only way I'll be able to talk to you, so I'm hoping that won't be the case."_

" _Cool!" The teenaged raccoon lifted it up and studied it with narrowed eyes. "So, how do I turn it on?"_

" _Just look into the lens."_

" _Uh, okay…whoa."_

" _Can you hear my voice being transmitted through?"_

" _Yea! Wow, this is so cool!"_

" _Now while you're out there, you'll be able to see and hear me if need be, and I'll be tracking you the whole time."_

" _And I'll be waiting with Bentley here in the van," their hippo friend added. "When you make it out, we'll be waiting outside."_

"That had been the plan, but we would come to learn that the plan rarely went according to plan…Bentley successfully hacked the security system at the small museum we'd chosen to pull off our heist in. I swiped the small gold statue without anything going wrong, thinking I was home free. And then came that interference Bentley had warned me about. And instead of hearing my friend, I could only hear some bizarre radio talk show. And all I could see in the lens was static. And wouldn't you know, about that time, I ran into an Interpol cop for the first time in my life. A big, tall boar that was about twice Murray's size. This guy was ugly, let me tell ya. And looked really, really mean. I tried to keep calling Bentley, but it was no use, I was on my own. And I was terrified."

Rascal gawked up at him. "What did you do?!"

"What any master thief would do in that situation. I ran! And I could hear the blast of his shock pistol as he fired at me. I was on the brink of panicking right there. But I had to keep calm; that's something that's mentioned over and over in our family's book. No matter what happens, when you're on the job, you gotta do your best to stay calm. But deep inside, I was pretty scared. I mean, if I was caught, I was going straight to jail! And I kept telling myself that, and it helped me run a little faster, move a little quicker to avoid those blasts. I couldn't get caught, my friends were counting on me. And before I knew it, I'd made it to the second story window. From there, I put my cane to use and made my great escape by sliding down a clothesline, which nearly snapped on my way down. I somehow had managed to land on the roof of the team van. Not very gracefully, I'll admit, but I made it. I still remember yelling for Murray to get us out of there, the brute of a cop blasting at me like crazy, yelling for me to stop. Like that was gonna happen. I can still hear the sirens as the cops he'd called in for backup chased us all the way to the edge of the city. But we got away."

"Wow," the kit whispered in awe.

"So you see, even us brave dads get scared sometimes."

Sitting up, Rascal hugged his father tightly. "I'm glad those cops didn't get you."

Sly smiled, hugging him back. "Your old man was just too fast for them!"

The kit beamed, tail flicking happily. "You're the coolest dad ever."

"You're pretty cool yourself, kit." He gave the little kit a loving nuzzle. "I love you, Rascal. And I want you to know that as long as I'm around, I'll do everything I possibly can to keep you safe. Ghosts, monsters, bad guys, they got nothing on me. And until you're ready to fight on your own, I will be right here, and I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you."

"I love you too," said the kit, giving his father one last hug.

Sly held his fist out. "Pals for life. You and me."

Rascal grinned a toothy grin and giggled as they bumped fists. "Yea!"

Sly then tucked the young kit in, kissed his forehead and told him good night.

Then back to his own room he went, his expression triumphant as he reclaimed his spot in bed beside his wife.

"So, how'd it go?" she asked.

"Great! He still thinks I'm cool!"

"See? Told you. You worried for nothing."

Snaking his arms around her, he began to chuckle. "What's the status on our other two?"

"Both sound asleep. Although my guess is that Robbie will be up and ready for another bottle at around 4."

"I may be biased, but they really are so cute. All of them. And you know...it's got me thinking…"

The vixen yawned. "Thinking about what?"

"About…having another."

She blinked. "… _good night_ , Sly."

He was laughing in earnest now. "You didn't say no."

She turned over, but a smile was quirking at her lips. "What I _said_ was good night."

He grinned, readjusting his arms around her so that he held her from behind. "Good night, my vampire enchantress. I love you."

"I love you too, Mr. Frankencooper."

"...but…that's still up for discussion later…right?"

* * *

 _Happy Spooky Day!_


End file.
